


daybreakers

by hamnet



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11984856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamnet/pseuds/hamnet
Summary: Joker points his crossbow at him, and his lips curl into a wide, wide smile. Joker's fangs look too sharp, too deadly, and he thinks he can feel them tear his throat. "This won't kill you again, but we'll get there, when you give us what we want."--In which the vampires have been controlling a fear-wrecked Japan for too long, and the Phantom Thieves swear to burn them all down to the ground.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somnicordia (hihazuki)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihazuki/gifts).



> originally started as a drabble request that, after i wrote the original drabble, went out of hand lmao
> 
> while i've always wanted to try my hand on something more graphic than what i'm used to, writing a vampire/dystopian au is still a big leap from what i usually write, so there is a lot of experimenting here and there. bear with me please!
> 
> also, i kinda named this fic after the 2009 vampire movie, not the, uh, ova.

Painful, painful, painful. Everything is painful: his hands, his feet, and his chest. Too painful, and if he still breathes, every heave would be like inhaling spikes.

It shouldn't be like this; vampires are supposed to be strong, agile, and most of all, _immortal_. They can't be killed, and they can't be stopped, so why is he in this situation, hands and feet nailed to the ground like some sort of a fucking frog about to be dissected, mouth stuffed with cloth soaked in garlic water and his very being burning?

The lights are out in his suite, but even then, he can see them clear as day: two figures standing guard in front of him, and they both wear stupid fucking costumes like they're in an anime convention. Their smells are so, so sweet; two young adults, one of them a half breed, and he wonders how it would feel like to sink his fangs into a half breed's flesh and suck the life out of them.

Not that a half breed's blood is non-toxic to vampires, though, nor is a vampire's blood, to begin with. When he sets himself free, he'll make do with the human.

He tries to clench his fists, but the wooden stakes wedged into his palms make it too unbearable to even lift a finger. He hisses.

"Aw, shut it, vamp," one of them says---the guy with the skull mask. He's the human, the weakest of them all, but he was the one who hammered the stakes into his palms with his goddamn pipe. "No use strugglin'. Serves you right, asshole."

"It doesn't really matter at this point," the half breed says, a fucking _woman_. Her red eyes look down at him, and her rounded pupils narrow into slits. She wears a red, cat-shaped mask. Everything she wears is red, and her eyes shine in the dim light. "We're gonna have to remove the gag anyway, if Joker and Queen don't find anything."

 _You're not gonna find anything_ , he wants to say, _you dumb fucks. Rats_.

A few more minutes of quiet agony, and then there are footsteps. A pair, and he knows Joker and Queen have come back empty-handed. Queen is the first to come out from the shadows, her metal mask reflecting the dim light, and then next, Joker.

Joker.

Joker.

Joker.

The leader of the Phantom Thieves, the man who swore to tear down this system that kept Japan alive for three decades, and a fucking _knob_ , just like him.

Fucking hilarious, really.

"There's nothing," Joker announces, and he walks past Queen and towards him. Heels click against the marble floor, pupils narrow into slits as grey eyes focus on him. It's nothing like the obvious disdain the half-breed's eyes bore when she looked at him. There's a hunger in Joker's eyes that he only ever saw in a vampire about to feed; a look he'd seen so many times, but never, ever, _ever_ on him, even when he was human and alive.

Fear. He knows that, of course, but he never thought it would be because he's subjected to the hungry stare of a vampire.

"Sir Kaneshiro Junya," Joker says as he walks towards him, every click of his heels a taunt, the glint of his eyes a promise, "the money devouring sinner of gluttony. In your quest for power, you let yourself be turned and indulge in hunts that took countless children from their families."

The human and the half breed give way to Joker, and he stops in front of him, standing by his feet. "You provided vampires with humans you call _pouches_ ," he says, "as if they're objects to empty and discard." His hand pulls out a small, pistol crossbow from his coat, loads it. "We've come to take your distorted desires, and to finally bring you to rest."

Joker points his crossbow at him, and his lips curl into a wide, wide smile. Joker's fangs look too sharp, too deadly, and he thinks he can feel them tear his throat. "This won't kill you again, but we'll get there, when you give us what we want."

\--

Café Leblanc is a humble, little shop tucked away in a small corner in the quiet streets of Yongen-jaya. It specialises in coffee and curry, and its atmosphere is known to be one of a kind, where customers can feel at home. Though it doesn't have a huge following, it boasts the most loyal of customers.

A combination of quiet and homey. Anyone can certainly feel at ease here.

Akira Kurusu doesn't yawn anymore; the dead don't yawn, but he thinks that at this point, with how empty Leblanc is, he could yawn himself back to life. Leblanc may have loyal customers, but right now Leblanc is _empty_ , the only thing filling the silence is the news that’s droning on and on about obvious lies. He's not sure if it’s because he's on duty today that no one is coming in.

He eyes a potential customer outside. She catches him staring, then she looks down and hurries away from the café. Okay, it's definitely his fault.

"I think it's best you close up shop today, Akira," Makoto says as she puts down her cup. She sits in the booth closest to the stairs with the rest of his friends, the only loyal customers who actually come regularly, but sometimes their orders are on the house. "I don't think there'll be any customers today as well."

"Boss will tear my head off if there isn't any profits today," Akira reasons, raising a hand to twist the end of his fringe with his fingers, "and then he'll finally kick me out."

"You've been living here for almost four years," Makoto points out, "I believe he won't kick you out when it's not your fault you can't make any sale on your own. If it's any comfort for you, everyone will cover for today's sale."

"Hey, hold on," Ryuji cuts in, and he's already standing from his place in their shared booth. "I don't have money right now!"

"So do I," Yusuke says, and Ann gives him a look.

"You don't _need_ to eat," she says, and then, "I'd like two orders of curry, please!"

Ryuji grumbles as he sits back down. "Fine, I'm getting a plate, too. List it down so I can pay for it next time, dude."

Akira has such amazing friends.

As Akira quickly goes to get Ann her two plates of curry, Yusuke speaks up. "Hm," he says, "coffee presents itself to be safe for vampires to drink." Pale, slender fingers tap against his sketchpad. "Very well, a cup of Americano should suffice."

Akira snorts at that. "Mixed with the blood of Americans?" he jokes as he makes his way to their booth and puts down two plates of curry. While Yusuke simply tilts his head at him, everyone else scoffs. Akira deflates. "Sorry. Bad joke."

"We know," Makoto says with a sigh. As Akira returns to the kitchen for Ryuji's plate, everyone's attention returns to the T.V. The news today doesn't report anything new, just a plethora of good news, all because of the vampires' _valiant efforts_. Just the same, sickening load of bullshit. Leblanc is quiet again, and when Akira serves Ryuji's plate and Yusuke's coffee, Ryuji had already eaten from one of Ann's plates, and she readily snatches Ryuji's supposed plate.

It's Makoto who puts down her debugger.

"There isn't going to be any news about Kaneshiro," she finally says. She looks up at Akira, who nods and goes to lock Leblanc's door. "He's a turned vampire, and we all know how they view turned vampires. He's a puppet, at best."

"A damn loyal one, at that," Ryuji says, scratching his head. "I guess he knows we're gonna off him anyway, considering all of our targets so far."

"Joker confirming it before the interrogation didn't help," Makoto pointedly says when Akira returns to their booth. He shrugs, sitting on the stool by the counter nearest to them and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"We don't lie," he says. "And we _did_ get a name. Nothing else, but it's enough. Mikoshiba Yuri. Medjed is already working on surveillance in her manor. She's a vampire, obviously. She spearheads the hunts, under the guise of child services."

Akira's gaze sweeps across the group, watching as realisation slowly dawns on them. Ryuji is the first to react.

"What the _hell?"_ he practically bellows, but none in the group flinches at his outburst. "So, what, they find struggling families and take the kids to sell them off to be...fuckin' _juice pouches?"_

"This confirms that the Yakuza Kaneshiro was heading was to throw off anyone who would come sniffing," Makoto says. "In the end, it's the government who executes the hunts." She shakes her head. "This is awful..."

"If we get rid of her, will the hunts stop?" Ann asks. Her second plate is empty now, and she's simply playing with the leftover grains of rice with her fork. She looks up. "She leads it, but obviously there are lackeys. How will getting rid of her stop the hunts?"

"It won't," Akira says, "but what we need to do isn't to stop it; it's to expose it. Everyone has to find out what the government is doing behind their backs, how they lie to us. That's what we've been doing for years, remember? First with Kamoshida, then Madarame. This isn't the first time we had to pluck out small time vampires, but---"

Akira stops, looking at Yusuke, and everyone follows suit. Yusuke blinks and fishes out his phone from his pocket. It's vibrating, and the phone's screen flashes along with the vibration.

"Ah," Yusuke says, "it's my phone. Apologies for distracting you. I put it on silent, but it seems it didn't do much to avoid distraction."

"Whatever, man," Ryuji says, "who is it?"

"Futaba."

"What? Well, answer her! And put her on loud speaker."

"Of course."

Yusuke answers the call, and he puts his phone down in the middle of the table. Everyone leans forward to the phone, and there's a crackle at first, then Futaba's voice cuts through the air, high pitched and loud. Both Akira and Yusuke flinch at the sound.

"Akira!" Futaba practically screeches, "problem! _Problem!"_ And Akira straightens in his seat.

"What's wrong?"

"Did they find us?!" Ann says, her red eyes wide, and Futaba gasps.

"No!" she cries. "Medjed's too good for that; it's because of us that you guys are still alive and kicking after all this time!"

"Futaba," Akira says, and he walks to the booth and presses his hands against the table. He leans forward, his shadow looming over the phone. "What's going on?"

"Oh! Uh," Futaba clears her throat. "So, our supposed next target?"

"We're listening."

"Yeah. She's dead."

Akira pauses at that. He looks up, at his teammates, and they all share the same surprise and dread that he feels. "Futaba," he says, pupils turning to slits as he looks down at the phone, as if it's the one that took their prey. " _Details_."

"How 'bout you all go to my place?"

\--

When the Phantom Thieves made themselves publicly known after Madarame's death, Futaba resolved to leave the Sakura residence and live somewhere that's a considerable distance from her adoptive father. At least two train rides away from Leblanc. It's for work efficiency, she reasons. Ever since the Phantom Thieves' debut, Medjed has been far more active acting as the Thieves' informant and backup and monetary resource all rolled into one, and Futaba's room in Sojiro's house is starting to prove a nuisance for her growing workstation.

Everyone knows better, though. Medjed is notorious for hacking government servers and leaking information about the vampires' illegal activities, and now that the Phantom Thieves are acting on that information, Medjed has become public enemy number one along with them. If Futaba is caught operating in Sojiro's house, there's no doubt he, too, will get a blade to the neck along with her.

So for Futaba to leave and hole up in a shabby apartment far away from the heart of the city is pretty damn brave of her. Sometimes, Akira worries she'd have to deal with burglars breaking in, with all her expensive equipment. So far, though, with her apartment continually getting stuffed with new equipment along with the growing pile of garbage bags on one side of the apartment, his worries continue to be unfounded.

"It's just you and Makoto?" Futaba says with a sniff, eyeing Akira and Makoto as they both traverse through the mess of cables scattered on the floor. An obstacle course, really. "A turned vampire and a half breed going on a date looks so fishy."

Makoto sighs. "It's not as odd as you think, believe me. Half breeds and turned vampires get along fairly well in a prejudiced society."

Futaba sniffs again. "So you two are dating?"

"No," Akira says. He stops in front of Futaba. Behind her, three monitors are lined in a half circle. Two of the monitors display endless stream of indecipherable text; the last one displays the Phansite. It's not a Japanese website, obviously. The vampires no longer allow the use of the internet in Japan.

The fact that the entire world is watching their next move puts another weight on Akira's shoulders.

"We're not dating," he adds.

Futaba stares at him for a second, then she shrugs, wide eyes sweeping across the room behind him. "Where's everyone else?"

"A group of vampires and a human takes too much attention," Makoto says, "so we decided only Akira and I will come. Are you going to tell us what happened?" She looks around, then she eyes the numerous monitors mounted on the wall to her right. The monitors are practically a window to all of Tokyo; they show every footage currently caught on every CCTV installed around the metropolis. One of the monitors shows two female vampires eyeing a lone human girl. It’s broad daylight right now. She looks back at Futaba. "This is an emergency. She had all the information that Medjed wasn't able to uncover."

Futaba sighs, and she turns her seat to face her workstation. Akira and Makoto huddle in behind her, and they both watch as she minimises the Phansite and pulls up another window filled with video recordings. "Okay, so, right now, Morgana's monitoring the situation in the manor. He'll update us on anything new. Meanwhile..."

She scrolls down to the end of the folder, clicking on one of the videos and opening it. "Here's footage from this morning, when her body was found."

In the video is a long, luxurious hallway, the floor carpeted and the ceiling with small, yet grandiose chandeliers, and two women stand outside a room. Both are dressed as maids. One of them has a hand over her mouth, and they both take a step back as three men walk out of the room in sync, carrying---

Akira blinks. "Pause the video."

"Eugh," Futaba says, but she does as she's told. "What? What do your freaky vampire eyes see that I don't?"

"It's nothing like that," Makoto scolds, and then she frowns at the video. Three men carry a body, two of them holding her hands and one holding her feet. She's naked, caked in her own blood, and she's missing her head. One of the men holding her hand carries a bloody bag in his free hand.

"Do you think she was killed under orders, Akira?" Makoto asks.

"Can't say," Akira admits. "Futaba, can you zoom in? On the neck?"

"You guys are so gross," she comments, but she does it anyway, and she moves out of the way to let Akira and Makoto find what they're looking for. It doesn't take too long to find it, though, as Makoto's finger presses against the monitor, tracing the numerous wounds on her neck.

"Whoever did this hacked at her neck until the head was finally severed," she notes, "the severity of the wounds vary: some deep; some, not at all." She takes back her hand. "Work of an amateur."

"Ryuji can make a cleaner cut with his pipe," Akira agrees. While it's true beheading a vampire is far easier than taking their heart, it's by no means easy to do. It takes someone as experienced as them to make a clean cut through flesh and bone. No one in their right mind would hire someone who can’t make a clean kill. "So it's not under orders. You'd think they'll take her out before the Phantom Thieves do."

Futaba shifts in her seat. "Uh, I doubt it, too. She died not too long after you guys took care of Kaneshiro," she says, and they both look at her. "And that amateur. I think we have a suspect."

Before Akira or Makoto can remark on that, Futaba wheels her seat back to her workstation, bumping Akira out of the way, and she pulls out the folder again and opens another video. "This is footage from last night, same as the heist," Futaba says, and she fast forwards the video. There's nothing remarkable in the footage; it shows the same hallway, but dark and empty, and Futaba keeps on fast forwarding it until the time in the video says it's 3 A.M. The heist had already concluded by then.

By 3:45, the door to their target's bedroom opens, and Futaba stops fast forwarding the video. The trio watches as a young man emerges from the bedroom, in white button down shirt and boxers. Everything about him is clean: from his neatly combed, shoulder length hair to newly manicured toenails, except for his left hand. It's stained dark with blood, and he holds a butcher's knife, also covered in blood.

He walks down the hallway with quiet, precise steps, then he stops, just by the end of the camera's reach.

He looks straight at the camera.

Makoto gasps, and Akira blinks. The man's eyes are the colour of rust, but no slits, no glint in his eyes that could be the trait of a vampire. There's only one thing that differentiates vampires, turned vampires, and humans apart, and it's always the eyes. There's no doubt on what he is.

"He's human," Makoto says, and Futaba nods.

"Yep. Like me and Ryuji. I ran through the records of all residents in that place; it looks like he's the only human living there. As a houseboy, apparently." She scoffs. "I call bullshit on that one."

"Would've been nice if you showed us this right off the bat," Akira mutters. "Still, good job."

"I do my job well."

"So," Akira says, still staring at the man in the video. Chestnut hair, looking soft and well taken care of; long lashes framing rust coloured eyes; and perfectly shaped lips, parted slightly. He's got nicely sculpted legs, too. From what Akira sees, he's good looking, and he looks to be about Akira's age; he thinks he knows what that man really is in that household. It makes him feel sick. "What's his name?"

Futaba closes the video. "...Akechi Goro," she says. Her fingers start tapping restlessly against the table. It's distracting. "The records say he's an orphan that our would-be target took in at thirteen, but I don't believe that. He's most likely a victim of the hunts, too, but I'm surprised he managed to live this long." _Tap tap tap._ "Honestly? If Sojiro wasn't able to bust me out, I would've killed myself." She pauses. She stops tapping her fingers, too, and she takes a deep breath.

"Look," she continues, "it's obvious she liked him, too. Seven years, and she didn't accidentally drain him at all. Imagine that restraint. It's the only explanation why he was even able to do this in the first place. It's obvious he had no idea what he was doing." She waves her hand at her monitor, though there’s nothing to see other than her cluttered desktop. "There'll be plenty evidence around, especially with that shit he pulled in the video. There's no doubt they have his scent, too."

Futaba spins her seat around to face them. "They're going to find him, and they're going to kill him."

Akira stares at Futaba, and he realises she's staring at him, her brows furrowed and her lips curled downwards. She's clutching the sides of her seat tightly. Then he realises what she's asking of him.

This is a chance to save a victim of the hunts, when, despite all their efforts, they can't even save a strand of hair.

Truthfully, it isn’t as if he has any plans to leave Akechi alone.

He puts his hands into his pockets. "It's in our best interest to find him," he finally says, and Futaba's grip on her seat loosens. Makoto tilts her head at him. "I think he's our next best shot at information. Futaba, do you have anything else that can help us find him?"

" _Yes_ ," she gamely says, turning her chair back to her workstation. "Um, I think so anyway. He took off a little later after the murder. I hacked into the CCTVs outside the manor and took all recordings I can take from the system to find him. The last time any of the cameras saw him would be when he stole some dude's bike, at 4:06 A.M." She plays the recording, and true enough, it shows Akechi in a hooded jacket and black jeans, pointing a loaded pistol crossbow at some guy, a human, and taking off with his bike. "Now, where the hell did he get the stuff for that?"

"Who knows," Akira says. "We get our stuff from Iwai-san," he adds, as if that will provide insight, "where does that road go?"

"To Shibuya," she says, "I've been going through the cameras there since I found out about the murder and where he'd gone, but he hasn't come up in any footage." She raises her hands in defeat. "Even until now! How can he not show up when the entirety of Tokyo is studded with cameras?"

"We're at a disadvantage," Makoto summarises, "the vampires can track him down with his scent, but we have no lead. It seems he knows how to hide, as well. Can we even find him?"

"We can't if the vampires get to him first," Futaba grumbles, "it won't matter how good you are at hide and seek if they can smell you anyway! You're just gonna make it hard for the good guys to help you!"

"…How about this," Akira slowly says, "let's take this as a good sign. He can take care of himself, and that's good. I think. For now, we have to talk to the others about this. Futaba, copies?"

Futaba loudly sighs. "Aye, _a---ye_ ," she drawls, and she picks up a lone USB drive beside her keyboard. She holds it towards him with her forefinger and middle finger the way one would with a card. "Here. It contains footages from yesterday. Inside and outside the manor, and all around it. Should have plenty of footages of him, too. I dunno."

"Thanks." Akira takes the drive and holds it with his thumb and forefinger. It's small, almost paper thin, and Akira worries he might accidentally break it in his pocket if he sits the wrong way on the train ride back to Yongen-jaya.

Makoto reaches over and plucks the drive from his fingers, and she puts it in her purse. "Let's make sure it won't break while we're going home," she says, and Akira grins sheepishly at her.

By the time they left Futaba's apartment, over two hours have already passed, more than what was planned. Both of them carry trash bags that Futaba insisted they throw out. The sun is already halfway through setting, colouring the sky a dark orange with hints of indigo washing over where the sun's light no longer reaches. There's no one around, though it could be because this particular street has always been deserted. There's a reason Futaba chose this place as her hideout, after all.

Makoto looks up, and she frowns. "We have an hour tops before curfew."

Akira dumps the bags he's carrying by the entrance of Futaba's apartment and holds out his hands for the bags Makoto has. "How are you not affected by the smell?" he says instead. "I can't stand it."

Makoto rolls her eyes at him, but she hands the bags to him, nonetheless. "I'd say the smell isn't that bad," she tells Akira, "but I suppose it's because half breeds like me don't have the same sharp senses as vampires, despite their blood running in our veins."

The pair walk down the street in quick strides in a hurry to catch the last train. "Don't need blood, actually alive and breathing..." Akira brushes a finger under his jaw. No pulse. "You guys are more human than you think."

Makoto smiles. "The red eyes and fangs make it that hard to believe."

As they walk down the street to the train station, it's easy to see how quickly the crowds thin out in a hurry to be indoors before curfew. It's not lost to Akira how wide the crowd parts for him and Makoto, but four years as a vampire made Akira aware that they're making way for him instead.

"Sometimes I feel like people are more scared of those who were turned than their makers," Makoto says, taking a step closer to Akira. A satellite van drives down there street, followed by military vans, all filled with vampires with eyes of varying colours. Akira looks straight ahead, hears Makoto turn on her debugger from her purse.

"They're just as scared," is all he says, and soon enough, he and Makoto are in the train station to catch the last train to Yongen-jaya.

\--

Two years ago, the Phantom Thieves revealed one of the government's many sins to the people, how the vampires who promised to protect them go behind their backs to bite them in the ass, sometimes literally, but mostly figuratively. Cases of vampire attacks always went under the radar, and victims were always threatened to keep quiet, and if they didn't comply, they're turned, if they weren't dead yet anyway.

Akira was one of them.

It took the deaths of two high profile vampires and the Phantom Thieves' appearance for victims to speak out and for humans to question the vampires that promised protection, but even then, fear ruled them all, and it did well to keep them quiet.

Not enough rage, not enough anger. The Phantom Thieves have more to expose.

The hunts are next.

It's already dark by the time they get back to Leblanc. The curfew is in full effect by then; Akira and Makoto got back safely from sneaking around in the shadows, like actual phantoms. The rest of the team never left the café, all still sitting in the same booth he and Makoto left them, and they look up as the bell chimes and Akira steps in.

"Everyone," he says, as Makoto steps by his side and the door shuts closed. She's holding the drive for everyone to see. Akira brings out his debugger and flips it on. "Change of plans; there's someone to find.

"His name is Akechi Goro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vampires: immortal beings that took control of japan thirty years prior to the story. they're dead, their skin cold to the touch and no heartbeat to find, and they rely on blood to survive. any kind of blood goes, but human blood proves to be their most preferred meal. they have red eyes and their pupils turn to slits. their eyes also reflect light the same way some animals' eyes reflect light. they have heightened senses, superior speed and strength, but humans can still keep up with them, provided they have the necessary training to do so. the only way to kill them is through beheading or tearing their heart out. stakes won't kill them, but it could hurt like hell. the same way goes for garlic. sunlight isn't deadly to them, but it's annoying, an incessant itch on their skin until they're under the shade. they comprise 5% of japan's population.
> 
> turned vampires: knobs as pure vampires like to call them. there's only one way to turn a human: drain them of their blood, then make them drink a vampire's blood. a turned vampire shares all of a pure vampire's traits, except for their eyes. while their pupils can become slits at will like pure vampires, their eyes retain their original colour, which makes it easy to differentiate them from pure vampires. they experience heavy discrimination from both humans and vampires, so many turn to military service for the unbiased benefits granted to them. they can only be killed the same way as pure vampires can be killed. they comprise 1% of the vampire population, along with half breeds.
> 
> half breeds: half human, half vampire. their physical traits are the exact same as pure vampires, but unlike vampires, turned or otherwise, they're alive, breathing and with beating hearts. they can feed on blood, but they are not reliant on it. they can eat human food, and other than their eyesight, their senses are up to par with humans. unlike vampires and turned vampires, they are not immortal, but they can live for hundreds of years. they also can only be killed the same way as vampires can be killed. they are rarer than turned vampires, since pure vampires normally can't mate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little prep for a long, itchy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kind comments and kudos! now that there are two chapters up, i decided i'm going to follow a strict updating schedule so both this fic and "sugar, we're going down" get updated side by side. i'm thinking on a biweekly schedule, but we'll see!
> 
> on the other hand, i'm writing a piece for a goro appreciation zine! (MANY PARTY POPPERS BC I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ACTUALLY GONNA WRITE SOMETHING WHOLESOME FOR BEST BOY) we're still on the "idea approval and starting on pieces" stage, but i thought i should drop a word here for those who are interested in buying. you can check out progress, etc, in their twitter page, @goroakechizine.
> 
> toots! have a good day, everyone! i sneezed my way through editing this chapter. forgive any mistakes.

As it turns out, the footages Futaba gave did little to help the Phantom Thieves formulate a concrete plan to find Akechi. There’s nothing worthy to note about how Akechi behaved in all these videos; he worked as how his records had written him off to be, as how a houseboy should: cleaning the garden, doing the heavy work (though, it’s absurd that a human is the one doing all the lifting, considering everyone but Akechi are vampires in that place), fixing anything that broke, and lounging in his own room, which is far too luxurious for someone who’s only supposed to be a houseboy. Other than that, the only other anomaly to his routine is how every night, he disappears into Mikoshiba’s bedroom, not at all leaving until morning.

No one in the group mentions anything about it.

There’s nothing to find that can point to where Akechi is now, but after asking Futaba to send them more copies of videos that date until last week and going through them all, watching as Akechi go through his everyday life in a fixed, unbreakable routine, it feels as if Akira knows far too much about a man he is yet to meet---

Like how Akechi is left handed, a fact that aligns with the video on the night of the murder, when he’s holding the knife in his left hand; like how his hair is always in perfect condition, even after being made to climb into the chimney by one of the maids; like how he seems to always put his hand under his chin when he’s thinking, like that one time he answered a rather challenging crossword puzzle to take a break from mowing the grass in the garden; like how he always leaves Mikoshiba’s bedroom before any of the maids wake up, always, _always_ at 3:45 A.M.

He left her bedroom with a blood-stained butcher’s knife at 3:45 A.M. It’s something curious, but in the end, irrelevant to what they need.

“Akechi’s freakin’ face…,” Ryuji yawns, “is imprinted into my retinas at this point.” He rubs his eyes as he yawns again. They stayed up all night going through videos in their phones, save for Akira who has his own laptop to use. It’s a rather inconvenient way to do investigations, but they’re pressed for time, and their phones are all they have at the moment. Ann stretches her arms above her head before sighing, and she leans back into her seat.

“I’m so _sore_ ,” she complains, “we never left the booth since you two left to see Futaba.” She nudges Yusuke beside her, “can you move? I wanna stretch.”

As Yusuke obliges, Akira sighs, and he tears his eyes from his laptop to look at the rest of the team in the booth behind him. Yusuke has scooted back into the booth, taking Ann’s place by the wall while Ann stands beside the team and stretches as if she’s about to add an inch or two to her height. Makoto is still trained on her phone, red eyes unblinking as she goes through video after video, and Ryuji is already nodding his head off. Out of everyone here, he’s the one who needs the shut-eye the most. It’s almost 5 A.M.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” Akira says, and everyone looks at him but Ryuji, who continues with his sudden nap. “I don’t think there’s anything to find at this point, and not all of us is immune to skipping sleep.” He glances at Ryuji as he speaks, and everyone simply nods in understanding. “Let’s talk about plans tomorrow, uh, later, then we immediately kick off with our search mission.” He picks up his laptop and gets off his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’ll get everyone blankets to sleep with.”

Soon enough, Ryuji has a blanket over him, and Yusuke and Ann head upstairs to the attic as soon as Akira gives them the okay. Save for Ryuji, who’s made himself comfortable in the booth, Makoto is the only one left in the café as Akira double checks the locks.

“This is messy,” she mutters to practically no one, but of course Akira hears her.

“Well,” he says, “we do messy. It’ll be fine. We’ll find him.”

“There’s hardly any reliable process to this,” Makoto says. “And how do we intend to find him when our only lead is that he escaped to Shibuya?” Akira flips the lights off, engulfing the entire café in darkness, but it doesn’t make much difference to either of them. She’s frowning at him. “For all we know, he might have found a way to leave Tokyo by now.”

“Now, you’re being too pessimistic,” Akira replies, leaning against the counter, and he tries for a smile. “Lighten up.”

“I’m being _realistic_ ,” she retorts, and Akira’s smile disappears. “What I’m saying is that we should also look into other options to obtain information other than simply betting all we have on Akechi-kun. Anything goes. There’s nothing we haven’t done anymore, Akira.” She crosses her arms. “The longer we take on finding the truth, the more time the vampires have to bury it with more lies.”

Makoto levels him with a pointed look, a fiery determination behind those red eyes that glint against the dim light. “Two years is already a long time to be quiet, Akira.”

Akira stares at her, and she stares back at him. Of course, she’s absolutely right. Two years ago, they tried to spark a revolution, killing off two vampires and publicising their grotesque deeds, among many other things, but all they managed to make were embers that still needed to be fanned into a wildfire. Two years laying low has most likely snuffed those embers out, but it’s also two years preparing not for a fire to ravage Tokyo, but for a blazing inferno that will devour all of Japan.

And as far as Akira is concerned, those embers still remain, eating away what little kindling the Phantom Thieves left to keep their hatred alive, and all they have to do is to come back and pour gas and throw in a match---then voila.

Take any longer than they already have, though, and they’ll come back to light nothing.

From that glare alone, Makoto manages to remind Akira what’s really in it right now, and, as much as this will hurt Futaba if she heard it, it’s not a victim of the hunt. Akira needs to focus _yesterday_.

Akira finally backs down, slumping his shoulders in defeat as he pushes himself off the counter. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” he tells Makoto, “we’ll discuss about that later, too.” He taps the yellow payphone sitting at the end of the table. “I think we can start with Mishima and Ohya. They might have uncovered some new dirt that Medjed hasn’t. That, or we hunt vampires.”

Makoto continues to stare at him, but eventually, she nods in approval, dropping her hands to her sides. “Good,” she says, and Akira lets out a sigh. She pretends not to notice. “Let’s rest for tonight.”

They’re already lying down in their respective spots in the attic, Akira in his bed and Makoto between Ann and Yusuke on the floor, when Akira says, “Akechi looks to be pretty good with his hands.”

Makoto pauses in the middle of shuffling into her blanket. “That’s irrelevant to the task at hand,” she says, “Joker, _focus_.”

Akira blinks. “I just thought---”

Makoto shushes him, and then he clamps his mouth shut. As silence fills the attic, Akira stares at the ceiling. Above him are glow in the dark stickers that no longer emit that greenish light in the dark---a remnant of his high school days.

Akira realises Akechi’s room had those, too, pasted on the wall behind his queen sized bed, and it’s a contrast to the glam that painted his room gold.

Ah, now his discussion with Makoto means something else.

\--

Despite the fact that they had gone through almost a week’s worth of videos in one night only to find not even the smallest hint to help them for their mission, discussing a plan of action took them a surprisingly short time. The gist of it is this: the Phantom Thieves are to spread out in Shibuya to look for Akech. Futaba will focus on going through all cameras in Shibuya and all nearby locations for him, and Morgana will keep track of all Thieves’ location and will be the bridge to connect all Thieves. This mission will only take two days. If they don’t find Akechi within that timeframe, they’ll abandon the mission and look into other ways to obtain the information they need.

Somehow, this feels like an operation way bigger than a heist, since they actually asked Morgana tag along on this one.

“ _Well, going through all those live cameras simultaneously is going to be a pain in the ass,”_ Morgana says through Akira’s bluetooth headset, _“so she can’t play third party to encrypt your calls to one another. I gotta be in on this one!”_

“I know,” Akira says, pouring steaming hot coffee into a thermos. It’s nine in the morning; everyone had left to prepare for the long day, and he’s tired. It’s Sunday, meaning Leblanc is closed; there is no lack of sales to worry about today. “You’re losing sleep because of this, sorry.”

Morgana practically snorts. _“Uh, hello? I know what I was getting into when I contacted you years ago. So I’ve completely rearranged my sleep cycle to match you guys there!”_ Akira can practically hear him smugly turning his chin up. _“I have isolated myself from French society, virtually integrating myself into Japanese society in a mission to free Japan. Virtually. I’m one of you now!”_

“No,” is all Akira says, and Morgana laughs. Of course he’s joking, but before Akira can call him out on it, the door to Leblanc rattles then opens, and Sojiro walks into the café, scratching the back of his head as he looks at Akira. He’s holding a paper bag in one hand.

“Oh. You’re awake,” Sojiro says, and he eyes the headset Akira is wearing. “You going out today?”

“Yeah.” Akira puts down the thermos onto the counter and looks for the cap. “I’ll be with my friends.” _It’s Phantom Thief business_. “We’ll be out the whole day and tomorrow.”

Sojiro puts the paper bag on the counter and nods. “I see,” he says. “Well, go have fun.” _Take as much time as you need._ “Don’t stay out until curfew, though.” _But don’t let them catch you_.

Akira smiles, and he nods at Sojiro. “Got it,” he says, “I’ll say hi to Futaba for you, too.”

That brings a smile to Sojiro’s face. “You go do that,” he replies.

He knows about Futaba’s activities as Medjed and, in turn, Akira’s involvement as the leader of the Phantom Thieves. It’s a mystery why he let Futaba leave, yet Akira gets to stay in Leblanc. It sort of makes Futaba’s leaving null, as Sojiro still houses, technically, a criminal. Akira brought it up once, and all Sojiro said was _I can claim ignorance. You’re just boarding in Leblanc at this point, anyway, and we’re not relatives. No reason for me to defend you, really. Just don’t do anything too stupid._

It’s a rather bullshit excuse, but it’s all the more reason why Akira is grateful.

“By the way,” Sojiro says, as Akira caps his thermos closed. “When’s the last time you fed?”

Akira stops at that, and he looks up at Sojiro, who in turn gives him an incredulous look. “What?” Sojiro says, “I’m just asking. Look, I managed to get something for you, so be grateful.”

He pulls out an unlabelled wine bottle from the paper bag, and as soon he does, the smell hits Akira immediately in full force. That bottle is filled with _pure blood_ , but---

“Not human,” Akira dumbly points out, eyes hungrily following the thick liquid moving inside the bottle, and Sojiro shrugs and puts the bottle on the counter with a quiet thud.

“I know your preferences,” Sojiro says matter of factly. “Well, I managed to get pure pig blood from a friend who avoids human blood, too. Thought you’re probably planning on starving yourself.” He gestures at Akira, unimpressed. “I haven’t seen you take anything but coffee for half a year, kid.”

Well, there was that free sample he got two months ago. It was diluted pig blood mixed with peanut artificial flavour. It was disgusting. Akira shrugs. “I feed if I find something.”

“Doesn’t sound like a healthy way of living, that’s for sure,” Sojiro grumbles, and Akira laughs as he reaches for the bottle, finding Sojiro’s words a little too ironic.

For one, he’s _not_ alive.

“Thanks for this,” Akira says instead, twisting the cap open, and, _oh_. It doesn’t smell as good as he thinks human blood does, but it still makes his mouth water. Animal blood is all he’s ever had, which is frankly more disgusting than he’d like to admit, and this is what he knows is some good quality stuff. He could empty this in one sitting, but he doesn’t think he should freak Sojiro out by doing that.

So he grabs a cup and fills it up, and it’s all he’s going to have for today. “Maybe I can share this bottle with Yusuke.”

Sojiro is already in the kitchen when he says that, opening the fridge, and he glances at Akira once before returning his attention to the fridge. “The artist kid? Doesn’t he drink human blood?”

It’s a bit unnerving how Sojiro can talk about that without at least the smallest bit of grimace. Akira shakes his head, and he takes a sip from his cup. It’s bitter with a really sour aftertaste, and it’s _really_ better to dilute this crap, but pure is pure; he won’t waste that. “He turned to animal blood after everything that went down,” Akira replies, his words vague on purpose, and Sojiro just nods.

“I see.”

“ _Hey!”_ Morgana hisses in his headset. “ _It’s nice you’re catching up with your landlord or something, but time is ticking! Everyone’s gathered in the accessway. Get your butt there already!”_

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a moment.” Akira downs the rest of his drink---food, whatever---and he puts the cup down on the counter and caps the bottle shut.

“I’ll clean that up,” Sojiro says, a hand waving lazily towards the cup, “just go already if you’re in a hurry.”

“Right.” Akira takes both the thermos and the bottle and shoves them in his bag. “I’m gone. See you later.”

Sojiro doesn’t bid him goodbye, still too busy counting ingredients in the fridge for next week, and the bell chimes cheerfully as Akira leaves Leblanc.

He scratches his neck with a sigh as soon as he feels the sun’s warmth against his skin, and he takes out his umbrella and opens it.

This is going to be a long, itchy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> medjed - a notorious international hacker group that emerged after the vampires occupied japan. they're known to have declared war against the vampires, and are working closely with the phantom thieves. two of its core members, futaba and morgana, directly aid the phantom thieves. morgana was the one who first contacted akira and proposed an alliance to take down kamoshida suguru.
> 
> morgana is a foreigner living outside japan, and the only way to contact him is through a special app he and futaba developed that can connect online. it's designed so it can't be tracked by any privacy-violating programs the vampires have set up. the same app is used to contact futaba. he's the one who provided the phantom thieves most of their gear, the most noteworthy one being their thief clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> please help a writer and support his [gorofication](). check out his twitter @clearestrod for more details. thank you


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